


The Sun Will Rise Again (And We'll Start Anew)

by ShadowsintheFire



Series: Darkest Before Dawn [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BAMF! Gimli, Child Abuse, Fluff, Heartless elves, Hurt/Comfort, Legolas Whump, M/M, Thranduil's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsintheFire/pseuds/ShadowsintheFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody is pleased with Legolas' and Gimli's announcement of their relationship. Especially Thranduil. </p><p>Poor, poor Legolas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun Will Rise Again (And We'll Start Anew)

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Hobbit fanfic! I absolutely love this pairing. There has been too little G/L here and everywhere else!

“Your Majesty!”

 

All heads turned as the guard burst into the grand hall, the hubbub and raucous laughter of the dwarrows in the room fading instantly.

 

“Dwalin?” Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain rose to his feet, followed swiftly by his sister, Dis, and his nephews, Fili and Kili. His shaggy brows were drawn together, the expression on his face thunderous.

 

Gimli stared at Dwalin, hope unfurling within his breast.

 

There were only three reasons why Dwalin, Captain of the Guard, would be flustered. One - Ori. Two - an invasion. Three - _elves_.

 

He had left Legolas at the border of Mirkwood, opting to go around the forest, than through it. It was now more than three months since he had last seen his dratted elf. Not a day had gone by that he had not thought of Legolas’ shining hair, his graceful movements, his sparkling eyes that reminded Gimli of sapphires.

 

The dwarf muttered a curse into his beard. These three months, he had spent almost all his time in the forges, after telling the rest of his family about his One.

 

They had all been understandably horrified, his father especially devastated that he would never have grandchildren. In the end, it was all he could do to wrangle a relectant promise out of them that they would not be overly hostile to his elf.

 

As the day of Legolas' arrival drew ever nearer, Gimli's musings had turned to how the deep green of emeralds and the cool glimmers of silver would enhance his elf's beauty. He had spent days crafting the finest rings and circlets, necklaces and beads for his One. Nothing less than his finest works would do.

 

"Two elves at the gates!" Dwalin cried, causing a low murmur of speculation among the crowd in the hall. "Alone, with a horse.  Methinks one of them be the Mirkwood Prince."

 

"Lead them to my throne room," Thorin ordered, sending a glance at Gimli. With that, the High Table emptied, Gimli among those rushing to the throne room.

 

The dwarf could scarcely keep still in his excitement. He danced from foot to foot, hands tugging at the braids in his beard.

 

He stilled at Kili's playful nudge, glaring back good-naturedly at the other's leer.

 

At that moment, the great double doors burst open. Gimli stepped forward immediately, giving nary a thought for protocol. His heart was beating faster than that blasted hummingbird's wings that Legolas had once told him about. 

 

"Legolas!" he called out, eagerly rushing to the side of his One, enveloping him in a hug, ignoring the other elf that stood by his side.

 

There was a titter from the Princes, but a swift glare in their direction soon wiped the twin smirks off their faces.

 

There was a hitch in the breathing of Legolas. That was all the warning he had, before the elf collapsed, going limp in his arms.

 

"Legolas!"

 

He set the elf down carefully upon the floor, already calling for Oin, before he found himself facing the point of a slim, elven sword.

 

"Step away, dwarf," the elf snarled, long auburn hair cascading down her back. Swiftly, she knelt down beside Legolas, checking his pulse.

 

Gimli knew none of this. His attention was caught by the dark, mottled bruises that stained the fair skin of his Legolas. One on his cheek, in the shape of a hand. Others upon his throat. And yet more on his body.

 

He harsly realised that he was moaning in grief and sorrow. Oh, his Legolas, his fair, delicate elf...

 

When Gimli was next aware, he was on his knees, Legolas gathered into his arms, Thorin's hand a warm clasp on his shoulder in silent comfort.

 

Fili and Kili were guarding the other elf, her sword on the floor. Oin was administering to Legolas.

 

"What happened?" Thorin's voice was a mere rumble.

 

"What happened?" the elf snapped. "You dwarrows happened! I knew all of you were as thick as stone - but _you_!"

 

Gimli looked up, bewieldered, to see a finger pointed accusingly at him.

 

"How dare you accuse my son of this? By Aule, I'll-" Gloin started furiously.

 

The elf swept across his protests. "You were the last straw! How did you think my King would take to his son and heir having a dwarf as a mate? "

 

Her ringing words fell into a shocked silence. Gimli clutched at his elf, eyes blurring as he stared the the dark bruises around Legolas' throat.

 

He had never known... never imagined Thranduil to be so cold-hearted to do this to his son.

 

All of a sudden, he remembered. The day before they had separated, Legolas had been unusually quiet, pensive. The nochalance in his voice as he had bid Gimli goodbye had not matched the terrrible fear and knowledge in his too-old eyes.

 

Gimli, the fool that he was, had simply taken it as fear of telling his father. Fear of his anger, yes. But not this....

 

"My King demands perfection, I'm sure you well know. Before this, Legolas has already thrice failed in his duties as Prince. This fourth time... my Lord was most displeased."

 

"What did he do?" Gimli whispered through stiff, pale lips. He pressed a soft kiss to Legolas's forehead, wrinkled in pain even in unconsciousness.

 

"My Lord disowned Legolas, his only son, naming a distant cousin as heir. He deemed Legolas a traitor to all elven eyes, proclaiming that none shall give him food, shelter, aid, or safe passage through our domains. He had his personal guard chase Legolas out of Greenwood, giving him neither rest nor sustenence after his months of travelling. His bow and weapons were stripped from him, melted down and burnt. He-" here, the elf paused.

 

"What did he not do? Legolas is stripped of everything he once was. He is no longer an elf. We are to treat him as we would orcs."

 

Here, the elf crouched, lifting a bunch of fair hair, to reveal a blistered-looking brand on his cheek.

 

"All will know," she said softly, even as the dwarrows looked on in horror. "I should not even be here."

 

With that, she turned to leave.

 

"Will you not stay?" Gimli called, voice cracking as he did his best to keep his tears at bay. "You brought him here. Surely, you do not mean to leave hin alone here, in the company of a mountain full of drarrows?"

 

Gimli ignored the stiffening of the dwarrows around him. He hated elves, yes. But for Legolas, he would be willing to put up with them, even in the very heart of Erebor, if it meant that Legolas would not be alone.

 

The elf paused, not looking back.

 

"Legolas has made his choice. I will grieve for him. My debt to him is paid, and I have done for than I should have."

 

With that, she was gone, Fili and Kili following to escort her out of the mountain.

 

Gimli could think of nothing to say. He had thought the worst case scenario would be both of them disowned by their parents. But this... this was so much worse.

 

"Gimli," he heard Thorin call. The young dwarf looked up, seeing his King's face, suddenly old and infinitely weary.

 

He felt fear lurch in his chest, and he clutched Legolas tighter, glaring at his king.

 

"You can't throw him out! You heard the elf - he has nowhere to go! And-" he stopped, hands curling into fists and rage. A red mist grew in front of his eyes, and he felt as though he could run all the way to Mirkwood, striking Thranduil down with a single blow from his axe.

 

"Gimli, lad," Thorin sighed. "You know how tenuous the peace is between Erebor and Mirkwood. Were we to give him sanctuary, his father's wrath would be quick and unforgiving."

 

"Aye," Gimli choked out. "But are we not dwarrows? Have you not always said that dwarrows would not betray one of their own? He is mine, I am his, would he not be as welcome as I am in Erebor?"

 

His fierce stare did not waver from Thorin. It was at this very moment that Thorin could finally see how much Gimli had grown during his Quest. No longer the young, rash dwarf a little more than a year ago.

 

At long last, Thorin heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead warily.

 

"This is not a decision I can make on my own. I will call in my advisors, where we will make a final decision. Know this Gimli," Thorin said, voice softening at the devastated expression on the young dwarf's face. "I do this not because I wish your elf ill. But this will have repercussions upon the whole of Erebor. This is what it means to be king, Gimli," he sighed, looking very tired indeed.

 

Gimli felt Thorin sqeeze his shoulder, before retiring. Oin finished applying his poultrices, before quietly following suit.

 

Gimli was left alon in the throne room of Erebor, alone with his beloved, his heart. Anger flowed swiftly in his veins, at both his kin's and Leglas'.

 

He was no child to be placated with half-truths. He could already forsee the outcome of Thorin's discussion with the Council.

 

They would have Legolas cast out, alone and suffering from more than physical wounds. They would throw him out, unarmed and injured, with nowhere to go, nowhere to turn to, for the arm of Mirkwood was long, and few dared oppose its king.

 

Gimli brushed gentle hands through the fine silk of Legolas' hair, wincing slightly at the patches that were dyed crimson.

 

_You still have me, my Heart. The whole of Middle Earth might have turned against you, but you shall have me at your side, till the day I return to Aule._

 

They would make their way to the Glittering Caves, to Fangorn forest. Perhaps, they would spend half a year at each, making a home in both the woods and underground.

 

Or perhaps, they would become travellers. They would roam Middle Earth, making new discoveries, seeking new wonders.

 

_As long as we have each other, I will be content to follow him wherever he goes._

 

In his throat, he hummed an old lullaby, watching over his Heart's rest, patiently waiting for Legolas to wake. He would make no decisions without the consent of his One. With that, Gimli leaned back against a pillar, Legolas' lithe form sprawled in his lap, awaiting a new dawn, a new day, a new start.

 

**Author's Note:**

> R&R please! And Kudos. They are all that sustain me.


End file.
